


Respect and Loyalty

by orphan_account



Series: Heart of the Sea [2]
Category: Hermitcraft RPF
Genre: Banter, Foiled Plans, I didn't want to make any of the crew people you know, I'll write more about the actual hermits I promise, M/M, Pirate AU, Pirates, because you aren't supposed to like them, rich people trope, soon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:28:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23499793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Doc’s angry look and narrowed eyes returned. “Well, you’ve certainly thwarted my plans in a way that I hadn’t expected.” He paused to glare daggers at the sailor. “By being annoying.”“Consider it a talent.” Grian shrugged.Grian comes to realize that not everything is as he wants it to be as First Mate and Doc is less than thrilled with his rival.Pirate au from @Gridoc on tumblr.
Relationships: Doc/Grian, Docm77/Grian, Grian/Doc, Grian/Docm77
Series: Heart of the Sea [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1688353
Comments: 26
Kudos: 253





	Respect and Loyalty

**Author's Note:**

> Canonically, this takes place second. I guess I could've just put these two stories together, but eh. Enoy!

_Dear Mumbo,_

_I could lie and tell you about how amazing this job is, but I think that you would see right through it, even on paper._

_My title might be First Mate, but I certainly don’t feel like one. The captain and the other officers… it feels like they talk over me. As if I’m invisible and they’re looking at an empty chair. I don’t blame them, I guess. These officers come from royalty and riches, they were born into their roles. I think we both know that I’m...well...not._

_I feel like a school boy complaining about how I don’t fit in. I thought I stopped caring about this sort of thing a long time ago, but it seems I was wrong. I hope that soon I will have better news to share._

_At least the coat is nice._

Grian slumped against the mast, tiredly rubbing his eyes. He stared down at his penmanship and sighed. Writing was never really his thing, but he wanted to keep up with his mustached friend while he was away at sea. Though the chances of him getting the message before they arrived back at home was slim. It was a chance he would take for now. 

He sighed and stood up straight, looking towards the ocean. The sun was just beginning to set below the horizon, meaning he would have to head to a meeting below deck with the captain and the other officers. He watched a few of the men begin to light the lamps that line the back of the ship and smiled slightly. It was good that they were docked, he mused. It was always unnerving to see the oil slosh in the glass container. 

He swung open the door, stepping down towards the navigation room. He could hear the other sailors whoop and holler below, alcohol and fresh supplies giving them plenty to celebrate. He envied them. They had camaraderie and enough booze to make it seem like everyone was their friend. Not long ago, he was one of them. But now that he had a fancy red coat and a new title, suddenly he was an aristocratic bastard who had everything handed to him. Grian didn’t blame them for thinking it, but it certainly didn’t feel good. 

He sighed, pushing down the feelings of envy and longing as he opened the door to the navigation room. To his surprise, everyone was already there. The captain glared at him.

“Well, look who finally decided to show up.” He snarled at Grian. 

Grian blinked, absolutely stunned. What? How was he late? His eyes fell on the second and third mate, who looked awfully pleased with themselves. “I, uh-” He stammered.

“Probably drinking away with the sailors below.” The third mate sneered. He was a tall, lanky man named Alastair. He had come from some noble family from way up north, Grian didn’t care to remember. 

The second mate, a larger man named Gable, nodded. “Some habits are quite hard to shake off.” He chuckled. 

“Well?” The captain snarled. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I apologize, Captain.” Grian replied hesitantly. “Alastair and Gable told me-” 

That apparently wasn’t the right answer because the captain turned a dark shade of red. “You are the first mate, are you not?!”

“Yes sir-”

“Don’t interrupt!” He barked. “You don’t take orders from them, you take orders from me! And I said 7:30! Sharp!” 

“Forgive me, Captain,” Grian said through clenched teeth. He couldn’t get angry and blow up like he used to. He needed this job. “But I don’t exactly have a clock on me.”

“You don’t have a pocket watch?” Gable scoffed. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.” 

_Don’t mouth off, don’t mouth off, don’t mouth-_ “Well, being surprised takes intelligence, Gable. So I don’t think you could be if you tried.” Grian snapped. _Damn it._

“Grian! Unlike your past employment, this job requires professionalism!” The captain barked. He pointed his large, meaty finger to the empty chair. “Take your seat, and for god’s sake, get a watch so it doesn’t happen again.” 

Grian did so, feeling heat rise on his cheeks. "Of course." He settled into the leather seat and shot a glare at his comrades. What were they, in grade school? 

"As you can see, this course is the perfect straight shot home." Alastair declared, pointing down the map.

Grian stared at the map and cocked an eyebrow. "Wait, what?"

"Problem, first mate?" The Captain muttered.

"He probably can't read the map." Alastair replied. 

The captain glared at Alastair. "While I appreciate the input, Alastair, it would do you well to keep comments not about the course to a minimum." Alastair's mouth clamped shut as he glared at the map.

"It seems I can read the map better than Alastair." Grian muttered. "You've got us headed into Pirate infested waters." 

"I beg your pardon, but the whole ocean is 'pirate-infested waters.'" Gable snarled.

"But this section is crawling with them. Small merchant boats are lost every day, pirate wars are waged, fought, and lost there." The sandy blonde explained, tracing his hand around the area. "Captain, I must insist we avoid it at all costs."

The Captain stared down at the map, stroking his beard thoughtfully. Alastair quickly jumped up. "Sir, this route would decrease our travel time by nearly a week." He declared. 

"I believe I know more about pirates than anyone in this room." Grian snapped. "Sir, if you send us into these waters, we're dead men walking."

"I'm sorry, Grian, but despite your, er, experience," Gable dragged the word out sarcastically. "I have a hard time believing a pirate would attack a vessel like this. We're a vessel for the queen, after all, and this ship has survived wars. They'd be fools to come close."

"You'd be a fool to challenge them." Grian snarled. "Captain, please. Trust me, those waters are bad news." 

Alastair scoffed, slamming his hand on the table. "I think it's quite amusing that after one encounter, you know everything about pirates."

Grian snarled, the black handled sword weighing heavily in his belt. "That 'one encounter' killed a crew of forty capable men! That encounter was with the Dread Pirate Doc himself! The only reason any of us are alive is-!"

"Because you got lucky, right?" Gable yawned. "That's why you're here now. Luck. Not by any kind of skill or intellect, you're nothing more than a lucky sailor who has no business wearing that coat or your title!" He snapped, and Grian had to grip the table so he didn't knock that entitled bastard to the ground.

"You want to talk about luck?! _Fine._ You were born into a wealthy family! And so was your father, and your father's father! You've never had to crawl your way to the top! You haven't had to prove yourself, but I have! You've never had to work in muck for petty cash, I have!" Grian snarled, leaning over the table and trying to use every inch of his short stature to look intimidating. "And you've never gone face to face with the most feared pirate of the seas, but guess what?! _I have."_

_"Enough!"_ The captain hissed. "All of you!" 

Grian reluctantly slumped in his chair, filled with rage and bitterness as he glared at the two across from him. You'd think after fighting for your life against Captain Doc, you would be entitled to some kind of respect. Grian ran a trembling hand through his mop of hair, bitter and horrible thoughts plaguing him. Then again, fate had always been cruel to him. 

"Captain, I've been a sailor for nearly 20 years and not once have I encountered pirates on this route." Gable finally said. "I'm confident in our route."

The captain stared at Grian. "Grian?"

Grian sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I've already said my thoughts to that utterly braindead plan. If you want to go through those waters, fine. But you'd better prepare a grave while you're at it."

The captain stroked his beard thoughtfully. Again. He couldn't _actually_ be considering this. Finally he let out a long sigh. “As much as I agree with Grian’s fears, I’m afraid we have no other choice. We need to be at our destination on time, and I fear we won’t have the supplies to delay for a week.” He finally grumbled. 

Alastair and Gable looked pleased with themselves. The captain narrowed his eyes. “But don’t take these pirate threats lightly. I want everyone prepared for a fight, should the need arise.”

“Of course, Captain.” Gable replied. Grian sincerely doubted he had actually heard any of the words the captain had just spoken. 

“I think that will conclude our meeting. We set sail tomorrow morning. Rest up, and Grian?” The captain asked. 

Grian lifted his furious eyes. “Yes, Captain?”

The captain threw a small bag of coins at him. “Get a pocket watch, for god’s sake.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Grian looked down at the trinket that now fit snugly in his pocket. It was simple. There were no ornate details, and he was certain that the metal was nowhere near actual silver, but it did the job well enough. He never would’ve thought he’d ever be able to afford one. Back when he was a teen, these things had seemed like a luxury. He remembered that Mumbo’s father had a really fancy one, but that wasn’t surprising. The man was loaded with wealth, and cared more for petty trinkets than he did for his own family. 

He was certainly glad Mumbo had turned out better. 

Grian looked out across the glistening ocean, it’s moonlit view marred by the large ship that was tethered down to the deck. He felt anger begin to build. His childhood dream of joining the royal navy was achieved. He was finally wearing the coats of soldiers that he and Mumbo used to imitate as children. He was one of the youngest officers to ever be promoted to first mate. He should be ecstatic. He should be proud and excited. 

But he wasn’t. 

His shipmates were nothing but jokes, his crew didn’t trust him, and the captain refused to listen to him. Grian thought that facing Captain Doc would be the most challenging thing he’d ever do, but somehow this felt worse. He felt disgusted to wear the lovely red coat of his dreams, and he couldn’t be angrier about the fact. 

He stopped and clenched his fists. He wanted to hit something, anything. He turned to the bundle of supplies that laid against the trees and slammed his fist into a large burlap bag of dried corn. He watched the bag slump off the barrel it was on and roll over pathetically. 

Grian sighed. “I’m not sure what I expected.” He muttered to no one in particular. 

“Corn isn’t a particularly good opponent.” A calm and rich German voice said from behind him. “I, on the other hand, am quite a good one.”

Grian froze, his heart somehow both stopping and running a million beats a second. No. No fucking way. He turned, and sure enough there he stood. The Dread Pirate Doc. Captain Doc. The one who said they would meet again and for some stupid reason Grian didn’t believe it. The pirate smirked at his surprise.

“Hello, Grian.” Doc replied, eyeing him up and down. “I see that the little sailor has grown a bit.”

Grian didn’t reply, his heart still beating out of his chest. What did he even say? _Hey, how’s it going? Did you know that the sun sets at 8:00 pm instead of 7:30? Crazy, right?_

Doc chuckled. “Speechless? I’m surprised, Grian, really I am. You seemed so talkative when we last met.” He said.

“S-Sorry, I’m afraid I’m pretty bad at small talk.” Grian replied. _This is a pirate, not your mate!_ He scolded himself. _Don’t just talk to him like you’re at a bar!_

“Well then, allow me to cut to the chase.” Doc replied as he drew his sword. _Ah. Clever._ Grian thought as the blade pointed to his chest. He had gotten a new one, it seemed.

Doc narrowed his one eye. “Well? Come on then, navy boy, put it up! You haven’t forgotten about my promise, have you?!” He snapped. 

Grian stood, dumbfounded before reality finally let him catch up. “Oh! Right, sorry!” He stuttered, pulling out his own sword. Well, not his sword. Doc’s sword. 

Doc grumbled something before rushing at him, making the first strike. There was a large clang as Grian clumsily deflected it. He needed to get his head in the game, Doc was here! Fighting him! This was life or death!

Another clash of metal brought him back. “Pay attention!” Doc snapped. 

“S-Sorry?” Grian apologized with confusion. He reminded him of his old teacher, slashing down at Grian like his old teacher had done with a stick. 

Doc backed off and glared at him with squinted eyes. “What are you playing at, navy boy?”

“I, er, what?” Grian asked. He felt dumb. 

“I finally find you again, ready to disarm you and claim my victory, and you’re here fighting like a moron! What kind of fool do you play me for?!” The pirate barked back. 

The sandy blonde had zero idea what Doc was talking about. He looked offended and a little...hurt? Maybe? Grian blinked. “I’m sorry? I’ll try harder?” 

“Fight like you did on the ship! Again!” The captain snarled, going in for the first strike again. Grian parried it, a bit better this time. Yet, he could feel his movements being slow. Instead of shock and horror clouding his mind and movement, now it was just confusion. 

Doc moved fast, his blows relentless and unyielding as he glared at Grian. He dropped down, kicking Grian’s feet out from under him. Grian grunted as he fell to his back. Then, with a flawless flick of Doc’s wrist, Grian’s sword was lodged into the bag of corn. Grian looked up as a blade was pointed at his neck, Doc seething above him. This was it, it seemed. All Doc had to do was slit his throat and he would reclaim his pride. 

The blade left his neck, and Doc looked more irritated than anything. “No. No, this won’t do.” He huffed, sheathing his blade and turning from Grian. 

Grian sat up. His confusion was at an all time high. He stood, unlodging his sword from the corn. “Uh, Doc? You alright?” He asked, feeling dumb for asking a pirate who tried to kill him if he was okay. 

Doc turned, furious. “Are you kidding me?! I turned my back! You could’ve gotten a hit!” He yelled. “What is wrong with you!?”

“Me?! What’s wrong with you?! You’re the one who never spares anybody, the cunning dread pirate! Yet you’re angry that I’m not fighting hard enough?!” Grian snapped back, bewildered and baffled. 

“You’re supposed to be my challenger, my rival!” Doc hissed. “Why aren’t you acting like it?!” 

“You’re supposed to be a fearsome pirate!” Grian retaliated. “Why are you acting like a child?!”

Doc seethed, grabbing Grian by the collar. Their noses were centimeters apart. “Listen here, you insufferable man. I have spent quite a few hours picturing this scenario. I would disarm you, reclaim the victory that is rightfully mine, and then give quite a lovely speech about how you would fare far better as a pirate than in this-! This uniform!” He snarled at Grian, shoving him back to the ground. 

Grian grunted, but wasn’t hurt. He didn’t think that Doc meant to hurt him. “Wait, you want me to-? What, join you?!”

Doc turned back to glare at him. “Your pesky officers didn’t even try to stand up to me, much less challenge me to a duel. A duel that not a single person has managed to beat me in. Yet, there you were.” He said, more calm this time. 

“W-What makes you think I’d ever become a pirate?!” Grian said, gathering himself and standing to his feet. He didn’t know whether to be offended or flattered. 

“What makes you think that that navy of yours would ever satisfy you?!” Doc snarled. “You battled and won against me, and yet they treat you like a common man!”

Grian blinked, before narrowing his eyes. “Have you been spying on me?”

“Not me personally, no.” Doc replied. “But I tend to keep a close eye on those that impress me. Even if I wasn’t, I know the types of fools that run those ships. They don’t respect anyone unless they’re richer or more powerful than them.”

_You’ve got that right._ Grian thought bitterly. “I may not be respected, true, but I’m loyal.” He snarled. 

Doc chuckled at that one. “You don’t strike me as a patriotic type, Grian.”

“I’m not.” Grian answered honestly. “But I’m loyal to my ship.” 

“Even if it isn’t loyal to you?” 

Grian wanted to have a comeback, he wanted to retaliate, but Doc’s words struck closer to the truth than he wanted them to. He pushed down the conflicting ball of feelings. “Where is your crew?”

Doc raised an eyebrow at the change of subject, but didn’t press it. “Resupplying. You’re a fool if you think only the Navy uses this port.”

“Why aren’t they with you?” Grian asked. 

“Why aren’t you with yours?” Doc replied.

He hated when Doc answered a question with a question. It was frustrating, to say the least. “What now, Captain Doc?” He decided to ask instead. 

Doc’s angry look and narrowed eyes returned. “Well, you’ve certainly thwarted my plans in a way that I hadn’t expected.” He paused to glare daggers at the sailor. “By being annoying.”

“Consider it a talent.” Grian shrugged. 

The twitch of a smile threatened to creep onto Doc’s lips, but his frown won the battle. “Mark my words, Navy boy. I will duel you again, and when I do, you had better fight like you did.” He snarled. “For now though, you can go back to your petty officers. Tell them all about us, but we’ll be gone before you can.”

“I’m not.” Grian replied. He should, but for some reason, he really didn’t want to. “Just don’t steal shit and leave me alone.” 

Doc chuckled. “I don’t make promises I can’t keep.” He replied. “Farewell, Grian. I shall see you again soon.” 

He paused as he began to walk. He suddenly turned back to Grian and smirked. "By the way, you look good in red." And with that, he disappeared into the dark alleyways of the street. 

Grian's face turned scarlet. "Wait, what?!" But Doc was already gone. 

He grumbled, turning on his heel as he headed for the ship. The sword handle weighed heavily in hand. The last time Doc had promised that, Grian wasn’t sure if he’d ever see the dread pirate again. This time, Grian was sure that he was right.


End file.
